


Slow

by pacoca



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Mild Sexual Content, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 09:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15288297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacoca/pseuds/pacoca
Summary: Shepard and Garrus's thoughts after the night before the Omega 4 Relay.





	Slow

When Shepard sleeps, her breathing is soft and quiet. It fills the spaces in her cabin until she is all around him. Until the moment is made still by the presence of her breathing.

Maybe it’s the way the glow of the fish tank fills the room with its blue, the way it sets across her skin like a quiet wave. Or maybe it’s the way Shepard lies beside him, her bare arm splayed across his hip and her hair a tangled mess of red as she breathes in that soft, steady rhythm she does and he thinks about the quiet and the calm and he thinks that _this.._.

This feels _right._

Like the storm of Omega was something that happened to another turian a thousand years ago.

Like the woman beside him didn’t belong to the war. Like her scars weren’t born from the burdens she carries, the people she’s sworn to protect.  At this moment, she belonged to him. 

Garrus looks at the lock of hair sticking down the corners of her mouth and wonders how she’s not choking on it.

He picks a strand and carefully tucks it behind her ear. Shepard doesn’t move. His hand brushes on her cheek, close to the corners of her lips and she sighs and breathes again.

There's something there between her breathing. A soft kind of warmth. The feeling keeps him still. It makes him humble.

Garrus listens to her breathing and thinks about the quiet again.

 

 

 

 

Shepard wakes up exactly 30 minutes before the ETA. She stirs just as the clock flips from _29_ to _30_ and was out of the bed once it has set to _35_.

She stretches her arms right up to her fingers, feels her knuckles pop. She knows he’s looking at her now, savoring the view of her bare ass, tracing the reckless rhythm of her scars the way he did with his tongue.  

She picks a towel off the cabinet and looks back at him with a smirk that makes his mandibles twitch. He’d tried to kiss it out of her. He tried to bite it out too.

She liked the way he looked at her when the clothes were off and the heat sets between them like summer fog. And when he finally kissed her back it felt like fire. Like her heartbeat hung on the taste of him, on the heat of his scales against her skin.

There was something there too. Something that flickers between them whenever he looks at her when she kisses him softer than she should be. Or when he rests his forehead against hers for a second too long, and she could feel herself breathing him in.

This _something_ stays, even when he is a bed away from her. She feels it even when he cannot touch her. It sets on her skin like the way his kisses sets on her scars.

Shepard leaves it buried behind and focuses on the simple. Like the towel slung over her shoulder, and the warm shower waiting for two alien bodies to get under.

Garrus grins and follows behind.

 

 

 

 

The truth was, turians don’t do showers. The water gets in between their plates in the worst ways, and the way the soap sets on his hide was closer to slime than anything else. And if he were being honest with himself, he wouldn’t get under a shower with a woman he slept with unless he wanted more from her than just ‘blowing off steam’.

But he was sure he didn’t want more from Shepard. Not if she didn’t want to. He was fine with this, with Shepard standing, slick and naked against him.

He lathers more soap on her chest, tracing his fingers idly down the valley between her breasts. Her skin is soft and pliant under the warm water. He leans close to her ear and makes her laugh again. Feels her lips brush the skin of his neck as she turns, just slightly, and whispers something that nearly gets drowned out under the water. He feels a shiver down his spine, all the way down to his toes.

Maybe turians do showers after all.

             

 

 

 

There is still 15 minutes left till ETA, and Shepard had already dressed waist up in her armor. She counts the seconds in her head, while Garrus packs the wine, still half-empty, and adjusts the seams of his suit with his hand. She makes a promise with him to finish it later, after everything is over. He laughs and holds her to that.

Garrus adjust the seam of his suit again, and Shepard turns her back from him and goes back to counting the seconds. She lets him leave.

Now she can focus on the simple, like thinking about a hundred different ways she could take down a collector base without a _Garrus_ thrown in the middle, kissing her scars and making her feel…

Feel.

Shepard looks behind her, expecting to see a glimpse of his back disappearing behind the door.

But Garrus is still there.

He is still standing on that same spot. Adjusting that same seam on his suit idly with his hand. That wine, half-drunk, still hanging slack under his arm. He catches her looking, and he almost seems embarrassed. He shrugs it off and nods to her half-worn armor.

Need any help with that?

His request is casual. She could say no if she wants to, is what he’s thinking. So, she lets him.

Garrus walks towards her, turns her arm over. He leaves the half-empty bottle of wine on the side of her bed and picks up one of one of her arm plates. Her fingers nearly brush the scar on his cheek as he pulls her arm up and clasps her armor around it. Somehow, he is closer than he ever was in that shower. When she slides her chest piece on, he moves behind her, his breath tickling the nape of her neck. She could feel his fingers working with the clasps. His scent is all around her. That flavor of gasoline and gunpowder lingering underneath the soapy smell of him and somewhere in between, Shepard has stopped counting the seconds and lets herself feel Garrus Vakarian and that _something_ that flickers between them when his hands are soft on her waist like this.

Shepard closes her eyes and breathes.

 

 

 

 

Honestly, Garrus isn’t sure if he did this right. Somehow, they are talking about catching up later. Maybe a few more times after that. He wanted to of course, as long as she wanted to.

And well, he likes the way she laughs for him. He likes the way her shoulders slack when her guard is down, likes the way she hovers close before she kisses him.

And if he were being honest with himself, maybe he’s also a bit more attached than he should be.

But he wants the quiet again. Wants to hear her breathing between the sheets at night, eyes soft and hair recklessly splayed out right beside him.

Maybe it’s worth it to keep his ass alive long enough for that.

           

 


End file.
